Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree
by Horsegirl01
Summary: Legolas and the twins struggle to get back to Mirkwood to celebrate Yule with Legolas' father, but are stuck in a snowstorm and forced to find Christmas in the littlest things.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Legolas and the twins struggle to get back to Mirkwood to celebrate Yule with Legolas' father, but are stuck in a snowstorm and forced to find Christmas in the littlest things.

I wanted to get this written before Christmas, but you know what they say about the best laid plans… I found I couldn't leave out our favorite elves for Christmastime this year, and just had to write a bit of fluff to get through the season. I hope everyone enjoys it. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my fellow LOTR fanfiction writers and readers.

A big thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my stories, comment on them, and favorite them. You all inspire me so much! :)

Rating: K+ for angst, emotional situations, and talk of death

 **Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree**

The dark-haired elf stood at the edge of the small, snow-covered clearing, his sharp eyes peering out into the distance beyond as he tried to spot any signs that the storm might soon abate. Snow swirled threateningly around stray tendrils of dark hair that were blowing haphazardly in the wind. Howling echoes reverberated through the clearing from the harsh gusts the continually threw snow into the elf's line of sight.

Brushing a loose strand of hair impatiently out of his eyes, he heaved a sigh and turned back to look at his watching brother. Identical in appearance, the other elf was poised in the opening of a medium-sized cave, the handle of his sword in hand as he kept an equally sharp eye on his brother. The snow was falling so heavily that potential enemies would be difficult even for elves to see or hear, and it was the perfect setting for an unforeseen attack.

Elladan, who had chosen to sight for any lull in the storm, shook his head and stepped lightly back over the snow to his brother's side, placing a hand on his upper arm and giving it a squeeze. "I can see no sign of the storm either easing or passing anytime soon, I fear…"

The younger of the twins, Elrohir, sighed heavily, his grey eyes dark with worry. "I do not like this, Muindor. He is not yet strong enough to survive the Yule season without his father…" His voice trailed off, kept purposely light to avoid other ears listening in on the conversation.

Elladan frowned darkly, his own features wrought with concern. "I agree, Ro, but I do not know what we can do about it. We can only hope that the storm abates by tomorrow. If not, I do not see any possible way that we can get him back home in time. Tomorrow is the Eve of Yule, the day when all the preparations for the Celebration take place in Mirkwood."

Sending up silent prayers for a Yule miracle, the two brothers eased back into the darkness of the cave, the only light a small fire in the back of the cave that provided much-needed warmth to the trio of elves. The youngest of the three, a blonde-haired elf that was still in the throes of childhood growth, was sitting leaned back against the cave wall staring morosely into the fire, arms clasped around his knees and his cape drawn closely about him, as though he were cold.

The cave that the twins had found for shelter after the storm had reached blizzard proportions was large enough to keep the cold wind and snow out, but too small for much in the way of comfort. The only enduring quality—at least to the elves, and the young wood elf especially—of the dank and musky darkness of the caverns was the small, chest-length oak tree that had somehow grabbed root and grown in the hardened dirt of the floor in the middle of the cave in between the entrance and the back wall, small branches brushing against the side cavern wall itself. It was close enough to the entrance that sunlight might stream in at times during the warmer months and lend it strength, yet far enough away that the trickling water from the cave walls might nourish it daily.

Sending the small tree a quick glance as he passed it by, Elladan shot up a quick prayer of thanks for at least this small blessing. At least the wood elf with them would have some connection with the nature he desperately required.

The Noldor twins, the famous sons of Elrond, reached the younger elf and sat down one on either side of him. Elrohir reached an arm around the blonde's shoulders, squeezing him gently, while Elladan scooted in close to him on the other side and placed a hand on the other elf's upturned knee.

"I am sorry, Elfling," Elrohir muttered in genuine sorrow, leaning his head down on top of the soft blonde hair of the much-loved young wood elf. "There does not appear to be any sign of the storm letting up. I am afraid we may be stuck here for the entirety of the holiday."

The young wood elf, Legolas, pulled back a little from the embrace and raised watery blue eyes up to meet the sad grey ones of the younger twin, his own eyes filled with a deep grief that cut Elrohir to the core. Legolas held the elder elf's gaze for a moment, then sighed, leaning back against the twin's shoulder. "It cannot be helped, Ro," he said softly. "Please…do not blame yourself…," he turned to look at Elladan, "…either of you! One cannot help what the Heavens decide to give us. One missed holiday is not much in the long span of an elf's life, after all."

Legolas managed a slight smile then, brightening the damp air in the darkened cave around them with even such a small attempt and bringing a light of hope to the elder elves' hearts. "At least we are together…it could be worse…" He looked shyly at each twin in turn, moving his hand off his knee and clasping each on their arms as he did so.

The twins exchanged a long look over his head as he lowered his chin once more to rest on his knees, resuming his fixed stare into the fire. _He is trying so hard for our sakes, Muindor…_ Elrohir mind-spoke his brother. _If only it were only a simple matter of just 'one missed holiday' as he stated…_

 _Aye…_ answered Elladan, his expression even more grim than it had been earlier out in the snow. _How long can he keep up the pretense, though? And what will happen when his strength fails?_

 _I do not know, Elladan, but as there does not seem to be much we can do about it for lack of ability, I suggest we do everything in our own power to cheer the elfling up._ Elrohir turned back to the young wood elf.

"Legolas, what is one of the most important traditions for you in Mirkwood?"

There was silence for a long moment, and Elrohir thought that the younger elf had been upset by the question and was not going to answer him. Then, sad blue eyes lifted back up to meet his gaze. "I think…perhaps the tree…" he whispered, eyes lighting up in memory as he recalled each and every special part of the Yule holiday.

Elrohir watched the younger elf carefully, wanting to make sure to stop the conversation if it proved to be too much for the elfling to handle. The child had battled with grief for almost the entirety of this past year, his mother having been killed less than a year ago. Thranduil had sent the child to Imladris (with a contingent of guards suitable for a fleet of royal members instead of just one) in the hopes that Elrond's skills and the twins' friendship with the young elf would pull him out of his grief.

Also, Thranduil had been called away to battle the mercenaries lurking on Mirkwood's borders, the same group that had ruthlessly killed the queen in front of the young elf after torturing both the fair queen and the elfling for many hours. Though Thranduil had arrived in time to save his only son, and his group of warriors had attacked and killed most of the men there that day, they had only been a comparatively small group from a much larger clan of criminals and savages.

Months after the disaster that killed Mirkwood's queen and grievously injured her only prince, the King had received news of spreading terror and attacks near the northern border of Mirkwood from more groups of the same strain of mercenaries. Needing to deal with the matter before any other innocent elves got killed, Thranduil did not wish for his grieving son to stay at the keep alone without any of his family, and thus had offered his young son the trip to see his friends.

Legolas had spent several weeks in Imladris with the Noldor elves, but despite the many pranks the twins pulled (to the frustration of the residents of the Last Homely House) and the kindness of everyone there, they could not take the place of the boy's father, especially during the holidays. As Yule grew closer, Legolas had grown more despondent and withdrawn, and Elrond had begun to despair that the child might yet fade—and on his watch.

It was Elladan who had come up with the idea to take Legolas back to Mirkwood and surprise the King for Yule, hoping that Thranduil would be returned by then from his mission. Thusly, it was why the elder twin was so angry over the hopeless situation they now found themselves in. He felt that it was mostly his fault that Legolas would not only miss Yule in Mirkwood with his father, but would be stuck in a cave in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a snowstorm for the holidays—his first holidays without his beloved mother to celebrate with.

 _If a Yule tree is what the child remembers most,_ Elrohir thought now to his brother, _then a Yule tree he will get—if I have to go out and beg the nearby forest to accommodate us._

Elladan smiled the first smile he had managed since the storm came. _I do not think that will be necessary, Muindor. Did you not notice what is joining us here in the cave?_ He raised a finger, pointing to the small tree in the middle of the cavern, his motion going unnoticed by the despondent wood elf who had gone back to eyeing the crackling fire with all the intensity of a thirsty cat eyeing a water fountain.

Elrohir's eyes grew wide in both pleasure and surprise. The tree was so pressed up against the cave wall that his normally keen eyes had somehow missed it. He had been too worried about the elfling to utilize his normally adept powers of observation, which came as a shock to him now as he perused the little tree. _Granted,_ he thought finally, _it is not the normal type and size that we in Imladris decorate, but perhaps Legolas will feel a kinship with the little thing and enjoy it…_

The younger twin squeezed the elfling's shoulders once more as Elladan got up and walked over to the fire to rekindle the flames. It had not escaped the twins' notice that Legolas was feeling the cold much more than was normal for elves, and neither wished the fire to be lost to them.

"And what was your tradition for the tree in Mirkwood, elfling?" Elrohir asked kindly, still with his arm around the youth's thin shoulders. "We were never there for the holidays before, regrettably. In Imladris, we would bring in a potted tree from outside and place handmade decorations and small candies on it. Was it the same for you?"

Legolas looked up at him, blue eyes beginning to shine with the faintest threads of excitement. "Aye, it was nearly the same for us. Only, there is one tree in Naneth's gardens—the big oak tree—that we would also decorate every year. It has grown as tall as a small mountain by now, but we wood elves manage to reach even the highest branches. For several weeks beforehand, everyone would prepare decorations of all types, small bells, pieces of material, small wooden toys for the elflings… These would all be hung on the tree on the day before Yule, and then a big Festival would be held that evening. There would be food in abundance, dancing, stories by the firelight… but the most important thing was always the tree… Then, in the morning, the toys would be given to the elflings in the village, but the rest of the decorations would be left on for quite some time. The great oak says he enjoys the décor and prefers it to be left on for as long as it is deemed wise."

 _Only a wood elf,_ Elladan thought with amusement, standing nearby and carefully watching Legolas with the air of a proud older brother as the younger elf enthusiastically shared his story about his traditions and the great old, obviously well-loved oak tree.

Though the Noldor elves loved nature and had a special bond with trees and animals, it could not compare with the bond which the wood elves possessed, and Legolas' tendency to drift off to speak with every tree in the forest was an ongoing amusement between the twins—as well as every other Noldor elf in Imladris—though they looked upon it with a keen fondness now that they had grown so attached to the younger elf.

The elder twin dropped down once more beside the young elf prince, brushing Legolas' blonde hair back fondly and earning a habitual scowl from the "too-grown-up" youth. Hiding a quick smile at the gesture, Elladan nudged Legolas with his shoulder. "Look, Elfling…have you said "hello" to our nice tree yet?" He motioned in the direction of the little tree just a few feet away.

Legolas looked over at the tree in question, his eyes suddenly sad once more. "I tried to when we first came in, but the tree is young and is too hidden in the dark. It does not seem to hear me when I speak to it." Blue eyes filled with a haunted look stared up at the older twin. "It is so dark in here, Elladan…how can anything live for long in such a place?"

Elladan's heart dropped as he looked over Legolas' head at Elrohir. The young wood elf was too easily pushed back into an uneasy haunted state, and it did not bode well for the child. It was all too easy for one so soon pulled away from the fading to get sent back into that dangerous state. Thinking quickly, Elladan rose and went over to the young tree, touching one of the wilting branches lightly.

"And yet it IS alive, Elfling," he said quietly, drifting slender fingers over the many different branches. "It has lived for quite some time in this darkness already, or it would not be this tall. You see, it soaks up the sunlight when it can through the open entrance, and it seeks out what water as is given to it, never complaining of its state. It yearns to reach out and grow, to flourish, even so far away from its kindred." He lifted serious grey eyes to gaze piercingly at the watching youth. "Perhaps, Legolas, it only needs to be taught to live again. Perhaps it needs the magical touch of a real wood elf to teach it how to speak once more."

After his small but meaningful speech, one which had Elrohir hardly daring to breathe as he realized what message his twin was trying to portray, Elladan merely sat touching the little tree and watching the silent Legolas, his eyes filled with a hopeful yearning. The elder twin had worried unceasingly over the young elf since his stay in Imladris, and wished nothing more than to see the boy happy and healthy once more. It was strange for a grown elf of the Noldor to rest such profound hopes on such a little tree, but he was doing so nonetheless.

Legolas looked off into the distance, his eyes gazing at some point on the rocky wall nearest the entrance—the rather darkened, snow-covered entrance. After several long moments in which the watching twins held their breath, he finally turned a steady gaze back to Elladan, his fair features breaking out into a shining smile. "Aye…" he whispered as though to himself, "perhaps it does just need a wood elf's touch…"

Legolas rose then, one hand brushing against the wall as he wavered unsteadily for a moment, the uncertain motion sending what little light on the elder elves' countenances swiftly fading the same way of the now darkened sky. Elrohir made as if to jump up and catch the faltering youth, but Elladan quickly held up a hand to stay him. Legolas would not thank them for "babying" him, as he liked to call it at times, and they needed him to fight for his return to health in order to prevent more instances of fading.

Legolas did make it over to the small tree without the aid of the twins, steadfastly ignoring the subtle glances they threw at each other. He was aware of their need to "mother" him, as he called it, and he was grateful that they managed to refrain from it this time. He could not honestly state that he was not in need of some assistance, but he was a proud young prince, and did not take kindly to being "mothered." Besides, his lack of balance was not a big issue. He had suffered through this problem quite often during his "fading" months. _It will go away once we are out of this darkened cave and back home with Ada once more,_ Legolas thought with certainty, dropping shakily to his knees beside the little tree and placing the palm of one hand against the thin trunk.

Sighing softly in weariness, the young elf scooted in to the wall without losing his grip on the trunk, leaning his back against the wall. He rested the back of his head against the hard, damp surface with his eyes closed as he tried to commune with the young tree. After a while of silence, he started humming softly to himself, the small cave filling with the lilting sounds of one of the saddest songs the twins had ever heard.

Hearts flopping anxiously, the twins sat down beside each other at the fire, sending surreptitious glances towards the younger elf every few minutes as they stretched their hands out over the flaming warmth. A tear slipped down Elrohir's cheek, and Elladan reached over and squeezed his brother's shoulders. The young wood elf's pain was immensely affecting them, and they both yearned to help the youth find some cheer.

Elrohir was not yet done with his plan, however, only having waited to give Legolas some time to attempt to awaken the little tree. When the wood elf prince's song slowly trailed off, he cast a quick glance once more over at him. When he saw that Legolas' head had slipped down with his chin on his chest, he realized that the exhausted youth had drifted off to sleep. This would be the perfect time to set his plan into motion. He grinned at the alert Elladan, and together they scooted over to their packs beside the wall, ruffling through them until they found the items they thought would be most useful.

When Legolas awoke a few hours later, officially dawn on the eve of Yule, the first thing he noticed was the excited whispering of the twins. His eyelids felt like they were glued to his eyes, because despite the short nap, he had been losing out on sleep for a very long while. Shaking his head a little to clear it, he tried to pry his eyes open, a feat most elves did not have to accomplish during their lifetime, elves only closing their eyes if seriously injured or fading.

Before Legolas had opened his eyes, his nose twitched at the tempting smell of hot chocolate drifting over to him from the fire. At the same time, he felt the presence of the little tree pulsating through the palm of his hand that was still miraculously attached to the trunk despite his prior state of sleep.

 _You're alive! You have a voice now!_ The young wood elf said to the tree through his mind and touch.

 _Y-yes, it is true… I started to awaken while you were yet asleep. I have been most anxious to speak with you… Never do trees like me have the chance to speak to a wood elf of the forest. I thank you for your energy that you have sent to me._

A small grin passed over the young wood elf's fair face as he finally managed to crack his eyes open the tiniest bit to look at the tree. When he did, however, a look of genuine shock flitted across his face and his eyes swiftly widened to an impossible roundness as he saw the little tree for the first time since awakening. Small red ribbons and bits of colorful cloths decorated the slender limbs of the young tree, along with various brightly painted pinecones and acorns, and a few colorful berries. Each decoration had been meticulously tied on with string that looked suspiciously like the thread from the first aid kits that the twins carried.

Legolas himself had a similar kit in his pack, Elrond having forced it upon him years ago at the threat of dire consequences if he refused. He was well familiar with every single item in the small but necessary kits, having been forced to endure the benefits of each item numerous times in his young life due to battle injuries or accidents.

Once the beautiful and awe-inspiring sight had fully sunken into his addled brain, the youth turned dazed eyes to see Elrohir and Elladan sitting close beside him, identical smiles of excitement and joy on their faces. Elrohir held out a finely decorated pinecone, acorn, and multi-colored ribbon. "Here, Elfling," he said softly, "we saved the last for you…" Peering closely at this special older brother, Legolas was able to detect a slight look of hesitance and fear lurking in the depths of those familiar grey eyes.

 _Elrohir fears it will not be enough,_ he realized suddenly, feeling a flash of guilt rush through him so strongly that it took his breath away. He looked back at the little tree—such a small thing that the twins had obviously spent a great deal of thought on, and just for him—then back at both of the twins waiting so eagerly for their small gift to be accepted and fully enjoyed, perhaps enough to fully bring him out of the fading. A tear slipped down one pale cheek, and Legolas held out both arms to the twins, gulping back a sob as they both immediately moved to embrace the younger elf wholeheartedly.

Legolas closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotion and tears, burying his head in the comforting shoulder of Elrohir while clasping onto both of the twins' tunics. Elrohir and Elladan, in turn, had their arms wrapped around Legolas and each other, both leaning a dark head against the blonde head of the young elf in their embrace. Had anyone been watching, they would have sworn they had seen a visage of angels that day, the fairest dark and the fairest light mixed together in a softly glowing elven light. Only the little tree saw, and the magical sight was enough to make it grow two inches before the day was out.

"Hannon le," whispered Legolas as he finally pulled out of the embrace and hastily swiped a sleeve across his eyes. "I do not know how you accomplished this, but you have no idea what it means to me…" He broke off, watery eyes shining at the older elves.

Elladan smiled through his own teary eyes as he squeezed the youth's shoulders. "I think perhaps we might know a little, Penneth. Yule is an important celebration for us as well, and we do understand how difficult this year has been for you, despite what it may seem sometimes."

Legolas grimaced. The twins' mother had been attacked by orcs and sailed to the Havens only a few years hence. He sometimes forgot that he was perhaps not the only one suffering through the holidays. He felt another wave of guilt flash through him at the thought that he had forced the twins away from their own family this holiday season just for his own selfish homesickness. Now they would all miss it, and yet the twins had tried so hard to make the day pleasant for him despite their own feelings.

He lowered his head, shame displayed liberally across his face. Ellladan frowned, lifting the young elf's head with one slim finger underneath his chin and forcing Legolas to meet his eyes. "Nay, little one. I would not have you blame yourself for this. Whether or not we are in Mirkwood or Imladris, Elrohir and I would not be able to enjoy the holidays without our little brother."

Elrohir pulled the younger elf back into a partial embrace, his own grey eyes serious as he turned Legolas to look at him then. "Aye, Penneth. We can still have a joyous celebration, just us three. For at least WE are together this Yule, despite everything else that has happened. Yule _is_ for families, and there is no family closer to us than you, little brother."

Eyes wide, Legolas dazedly met the younger twin's eyes, then looked askance at Elladan. "Forgive me," he whispered so quietly that even the twins' keen elvish hearing barely caught the words. "I am sorry for ruining your Yule. I have been selfish in my grief. I will not do so any longer." He looked down again, and both twins heaved silent sighs of frustration, wishing that the young prince did not always have to be so self-blaming in everything.

"Nay, Legolas!" Elladan reiterated. "You have ruined nothing, and we would not have you attempt to hide your grief for our sakes. It is good to grieve, else it stays bottled up and turns into something dangerous—like fading."

"And although it is good to grieve, it is also good to have moments of joy through the grief, young one," Elrohir threw in. "We may be snowed in, but as you have hopefully seen with this little tree, there is joy to be found in even the darkest cave and the smallest things in life. Let us rejoice together this Yule for the companionship of brothers and the miracles of small trees growing in darkened caves. We have much to be thankful for this holiday season."

Legolas' wide blue eyes began to shine. "Aye," he whispered as a smile once more lit up his features, causing the twins to smile happily at the now too rare, beautiful sight. "You are right, we DO have much to be thankful for this Yule. I may not be able to be in Mirkwood or see Adar, but Adar might not have been returned from his trip in any case, and there is nowhere else I would rather be than with the two of you—my much older and not-so-much wiser brothers…" He trailed off with a teasing glint in his eye, artfully dodging the expected swipes from both the twins at his comment.

They all grinned at each other then, and turned to assess the little tree, exclaiming over each new decoration and shifting small branches here and there to add to the beauty. The twins had been creative in their decorations, bringing forth torn scraps from spare clothing, cloaks and blankets to make the little ribbons, along with some of the berries and acorns they had brought as treats. Being experienced woodsmen and with the asthetic appreciation that all elves had, they had created some bright colors from the various berries and herbs in their kits, Elladan had delved amongst the bare trees outside the cave for any lurking pinecones, managing to come up with enough for the small tree, and together they had spent the few hours Legolas had slept mixing the odd assortment together into one well-decorated tree!

Legolas now happily added his own small ornaments, and they spent the rest of the eve of Yule enjoying the few treats the Imladris cook had packed for them—including the delicious hot chocolate—watching the little tree glisten quietly in front of the dark cave wall, and singing familiar and traditional Yule Elvish songs until the light from outside dimmed and the fire was flickering wildly in the small cavern.

As Legolas was guided to lay down on his mat by the hovering (and sometimes smothering to his eyes) twins, and his eyes drifted shut in a weary exhaustion (but in a good way this time), he could not help but think that somehow…someway…this had ended up being one of the best Yule Eves he had ever experienced—despite it all. And for once that night, his dreams were filled with starry-eyed trees and singing big brothers, all wrapped up in a cozy little cave and blanketed with a white and silent world outside!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Once again, I wanted to get this written before Christmas, but once again, you know what they say about the best laid plans… I originally planned to continue this story thanks to a suggestion from a friend, and have been slowly working on it. There is more to come with hopefully some resolution, but I wanted to go ahead and post something closer to Christmas. I hope everyone enjoys it. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my fellow LOTR fanfiction writers and readers.

A big thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my stories, comment on them, and favorite them. You all inspire me so much! :)

Rating: K+ for angst, emotional situations, and talk of death

Left Behind

The next day the storm broke the dawn of Yule with relentless fury, and the elves were hard pressed to keep their little shelter warm and dry. The little tree still glistened quietly in its corner, shining forth what cheer it could in the dismal surroundings of the cave, but the winter's chill and the dark and dank atmosphere had leant its shadow to the young elfling within, doing what no amount of Yule cheer could manage to stave off. Legolas was sickened once more, and the twins were frantic, one of the rare times in their long lives that they did not know what path to choose.

As the young elf dozed fitfully before the fire, wrapped in all the blankets the elves had brought, along with Elladan and Elrohir's cloaks—they were older and healthy and did not mind the chill as much being elves—the dark-haired twins spoke quietly with each other, debating every possible recourse they might take.

"I think we must chance it, muindor. Our supplies run low, and Ada did not foresee such illness as this when he packed the healing supplies. If the elfling worsens we will be too far away from any possibility of aid in time to do any good." Elrohir shot a worried glance at the elfling, rubbing one pale hand over his forehead as he sat upon a rock by the fire.

Elladan stood tall near the entrance, tufts of snowflakes drifting onto his fair features as the wind hissed and screamed its rage to the inhabitants within the tiny cave. "It is madness to attempt this storm, brother," he argued, his face set against his brother's plan. "Do you not hear it? Do you not feel it? The child would only worsen in such weather, and you know this."

Elrohir sighed. "Those are our options—to stay or to go. Neither one sounds good to me. What if this proves to be one of the infamous Mirkwood storms that lasts for weeks? WE can manage, for we are strong and healthy adult elves. The child will surely die."

Elladan turned a dark countenance to his twin. "Listen to him. You can hear his breathing over the roaring of the wind. He is already getting a sickness in his lungs. Exposure to worse cold will seal his fate, Elrohir. We must simply trust to the fates that the storm will not last much longer."

Elrohir sighed sadly, reaching forward and poking at the fire with a stick to build up the declining flames. "And what when our wood supply runs low to feed the fire?" He caught the look in Elladan's eyes as he glanced at the sleeping elfling beside the lone little tree in the cave. "And do not DARE to say we should use the tree as fuel, for that would surely kill the elfling quicker than any cold could do…."

Elladan grimaced, for he had been about to say just such, then met his twin's grey gaze. "Aye, I suppose that is true... I do not think we can risk the outside, however. We must give it more time and say as many prayers as we can manage. Perhaps we will be lucky and someone is missing us by now, though I do not think any search parties would get far in such weather as this."

The usually mild-mannered younger twin cried out softly in frustration, kicking the rock on the ground in front of him and sending it tumbling towards his twin, who reached out a boot and caught it subtly, keeping it ensconced under his foot. "I cannot abide this!" Elrohir cried. "Why must the poor child suffer so?"

Elladan sighed finally, coming to sit down beside his brother and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We cannot foresee why, brother, we can only make the choices we are faced with at the moment. We must trust to the Valar and pray that the little one endures. He is strong, Elrohir. And we are here with him. Things are not as bad as they seem." The elder twin tried to console his brother, feeling the weighty responsibility of being the oldest, if even by a few minutes. It was plain by the look in his eyes that Elladan was nearly in despair as well, but he tended to be calmer and more optimistic than his more emotional brother. It was a trait that served him well in battles, and one his twin usually copied as well, unless, of course, it came to matters of the heart…such as little blonde, favored elflings…

Elrohir managed a smile up at him, recognizing his brother's efforts and not wishing them to be for naught. He placed his hand over his brother's on his own shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. He rose then and went over to kneel beside the elfling, whose sleep was becoming fitful as he struggled to breathe through half-coughs and wheezes.

Elrohir placed a slender hand on the small, pale forehead, wincing at the heat radiating off of it. He turned to his watching brother. "He burns," he said simply, and Elladan's face darkened. He grabbed their packs from beside the cave wall where they had stored them along with their more bulky weapons, digging swiftly through the contents for some herbs that might help the sick elfling. He found what he needed, grabbing one of their travel pots from the pack as well and pouring some water into it from his canteen. This he placed over the fire to heat, mixing the herbs straight into the pot and retrieving a cup from the pack that had been recently washed in the snow.

Elrohir placed his hand on the elfling's chest while he waited for his brother to finish the tea. The smell of the herbs spread over the little enclosure, filling it with a heady aroma that made breathing easier, and Elrohir realized why his twin had placed the herbs straight into the pot. Drinking AND smelling the medicine would make it doubly potent—though the younger twin did not know what affects it might have in such strong dosage. He shrugged. Elladan was more knowledgeable about the healing arts, though he was experienced as well as a son of Elrond. He knew his brother would not mix anything that might pose dangers to the young elf. He cared too much for him as it was.

The younger twin closed his eyes, allowing the healing smell to sweep over him as he slipped into a healing state, sending energy into the chest of the elfling in an attempt to lower his fever and open up his breathing.

A few moments later, he opened his eyes to see his twin kneeling beside him, cup in hand and a questioning look on his face. "The sickness runs deep," he responded to the unasked question sadly, "but I think I was able to lower the risk at least slightly."

Elladan frowned, nodding, then held the cup up to the elfling's lips and dribbled the liquid into the elfling's mouth bit by bit, rubbing his throat afterwards to encourage him to swallow. He was slow and careful so the elfling would not get choked. In this manner he fed the unconscious young one the entire cup without causing him to awaken. The tea was laced with sleeping herbs as well. He had decided it would be better for the child to sleep as long as possible so that he would not suffer.

They spend the entirety of Yule alternating care of the elfling. Elrohir would give of his energy to the child, then Elladan would do the same a while later. They took turns preparing and feeding the child the herbal teas as well, having to resort to using melted snow from outside the cave entrance later in the day.

When night fell, nothing had changed. The elfling still wheezed and gasped in air in his sleep, and the storm still raged outside. The twins were exhausted and ready to despair. Elrohir went to stoke the fire once more, then turned to face his twin, arms pressed tightly to his sides and his hands clenched into fists. "We have only three sticks left, muindor. It is not enough to last the night."

Elladan bit his lip, glancing out the cave entrance into the swirling snow beyond. Though sunset was close, it was the harsh storm that cast a dark glow outside the cave, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in either direction. "One of us shall have to find some wood."

"How do you propose we find dry wood when it has been snowing for two days?" Elrohir snapped, his nerves frayed from the stress of the worrying situation.

"We will dig near the trees and find some buried in the ground." Elladan said confidently. "If not, I shall simply ask the trees for branches. None would deny helping for the benefit of a wood elf princeling."

"That wood will be wet as well, brother," Elrohir warned, peering into the storm as well in a searching manner.

Elladan huffed slightly, placing his hands on his hips. "If you cannot come up with a better and viable solution, little brother, than our only other option is this little tree here in the cave."

Elrohir looked horrified as he glanced at the brightly-decorated little tree that had only recently been awoken by their wood elf brother and had brought such happiness to the young elfling. "We must not, Elladan." He looked seriously at his brother, his voice quiet and still. "You know it would destroy him…"

"Would you rather he freeze to death?" Elladan demanded. "Without a fire he will worsen; if the exposure does not kill him first, the disease surely will."

Elrohir looked again at the tree, grief in his eyes as he contemplated his brother's words. He finally turned to meet his brother's steel gaze. "Only if we have no other choice," he amended. "And I MEAN no other choice!"

Elladan looked torn between relief and dismay. "Of course… I do not wish it either. I will go out first to search. I will not be long."

Elrohir nodded. His brother would not back down once he had chosen his decision. There was no point in arguing. Besides he would have his turn as well. Elladan hunched his shoulders against the storm, pulled his hood up over his head, then left the cave in a swirl of cloak.

Elrohir went back over to sit beside the elfling, tucking the blankets in more securely around him and placing an arm over his chest to provide more warmth. He stayed that way until Elladan stumbled back into the enclosure, face red against the cold but an expression of exhilaration in his shining eyes. He dumped an armful of kindling on the ground against the wall and turned to smile at his brother. "The trees were most accommodating! It seems that word has spread that the young princeling is ill and in need of heat. I no sooner stepped into the trees when I was bombarded with various sticks and limbs being flung at me from above. The trees were also smart enough to choose their driest branches. I will let them dry until we completely run out, but we should have enough to last the night at least! We can also hope that if the forest knows, that word will reach Thranduil's people and they will send out a patrol to meet us…"

Elrohir breathed a sigh of relief, casting a glance at the little tree beside Legolas, which had slumped dramatically in the interim, almost as though it knew what the twins had considered; which was a possibility, knowing the wood elf's abilities. The Noldor could communicate with trees to a lesser extent, but they did not have the skills of their wood elf kin, and did not advocate such strong and realistic feelings to them like the wood elves did. Nevertheless, Elrohir could have sworn the tree perked up ever so slightly when Elladan was finished speaking, and he could not help but grin. "The elfling will be pleased," he said happily, reaching over and patting the little tree gently on its top, garnering a strange look from his brother in the process.

Elladan shrugged, as though realizing his younger brother was prone to insanity, and placed another stick on the fire, poking at it to ensure it stay lit. He then came over and sat down beside the elfling. "Let us rest for a while, brother. The fire will last long enough for us to sleep now. Who knows what may come, and we need to rest."

Elrohir agreed, and they both curled up on either side of the elfling, snuggling under the blankets with him and holding him close on either side to help keep him warm. In such a manner they drifted off to sleep, only awakening when the darkness began to grow over the cave as the fire dimmed from lack of fuel.

Elrohir was the first to awaken, and he instantly knew that the necessary warmth was dimming, as was the constantly flickering light. He sprang up, immediately awake, and leapt over to the fire, frantically poking it with one of the few sticks they had left to rekindle the flames. The abrupt movement awoke both Elladan and Legolas, who whimpered in distress at the loss of warmth from the twin, then from pain as he tried to draw in a breath and was met with sharp, shooting pains in his chest. He coughed, curling into himself in anguish when the coughing only increased the pain. Tears began to slip from wide, confused eyes as he looked around for the twins, not understanding what was happening.

Elladan, who had sat up at Elrohir's movement, turned in horror to the young elf, knowing immediately from the sound of the cough that he was direly ill. He scooped the elfling up against his chest, smoothing back his smooth, blonde hair that was slightly sticky from the fever and murmuring comfortingly to him. "Shhh, penneth, just take slow, steady breaths. It will be alright. We will help you."

Large blue eyes looked up at him trustingly as Legolas curled his hand into Elladan's tunic. Elladan began to softly sing as he rocked him back and forth, keeping his eyes locked with the elfling's until they finally began to close amidst more coughing. When he was fairly certain the elfling was asleep once more, wincing at the raspy breathing, he turned to meet his brother's grim gaze from beside the fire where he was preparing more tea.

"I TOLD you we should have continued on!" Elrohir hissed, his eyes shooting darts at his twin. "He is too sick! We have not the right supplies to treat such an illness here!"

Elladan frowned, his own grey eyes beginning to darken in anger. "It would have only worsened him!" he insisted, keeping his voice mild despite his anger for the sake of the sleeping elfling. "Come, brother… let us cease arguing over this matter. It will get us nowhere. We must take what we have now and make our decisions."

Elrohir pursed his lips together as though preventing himself from saying what he really wished to as he nodded curtly to his twin. "Fine then… what DO we have to work with? What is your opinion on the matter now? Shall we stay or shall we go?"

Elladan looked down at the elfling once more, his face pensive as he listened to the precarious breathing coming from the thin body. "I think we must consider risking the weather," he said finally, not even making an attempt to conceal his reluctance. "We must hope that the storm has lessened, or that it at least begins to while we travel. We will have to keep the elfling covered as much as possible. We are… what?... two days perhaps?... away from the keep. The patrols will find us much sooner and will have more supplies than we may have." Elladan sighed and clasped the elfling to him, placing his dark head down against the soft blonde head of the child and closing his eyes. "Let us hope that we do not get lost in the storm," he said sadly as he rocked the elfling.

Elrohir watched his brother for a moment, suddenly feeling bad that he had antagonized him so much over his previous decision. He had a valid point. If the storm did not abate, they could very well get lost. If so, they would all die from exposure, and swiftly. His brother was only trying to do what he knew in order to keep his loved ones as safe as possible. There really wasn't any right or wrong solution in this horrible situation; only the need to do 'something' in order to help the elfling. Either decision could prove to be the wrong one, but it could also mean the difference between life and death.

He sighed bitterly, going to gather up all their supplies once more and place them in their packs while Elladan watched over the child. Now that he had gotten his way, it suddenly did not seem so enticing; in fact, it seemed terrifying. Perhaps they would have been better off staying in the nice, cozy cave—if not for the fact that the elfling would soon deteriorate beyond all hope of salvation if they merely sat around and waited, and the chance of being found by any patrol from Mirkwood was slim to none in such a remote location. Few of the wood elves would think to look in the mountains where the orcs were in abundance, even in the dead of winter.

 _Ah well_ , mused the younger twin as he finished packing up the supplies and turned to face his brother, _it is done. At least if we die, we all die together!_ He nodded to his brother, who carefully rose and gathered the elfling to him, wrapping the blankets and cloaks carefully around him.

Elrohir walked over and grabbed up the bedroll, which he hurriedly packed as well. He placed one of the packs carefully on his brother's shoulders, then slung the others onto his own strong back. They would take turns both with the packs, extra weapons—Elrohir was carrying Legolas' smaller knives, bow and quiver—and the elfling, so that their backs and arms could take intermittent rests. With a glance at his brother to make sure he was ready, Elrohir pulled the blankets carefully over the elfling's pale face, then hefted the weight on his back and stepped out ahead of his brother, looking back to make sure he was following him. He would continue to walk slightly ahead to provide as much shelter from the storm as he could to his brother and the young princeling.

The wind swirled the snow fiercely around the lonely trio as they trudged relentlessly through the storm. Thankful that they were elves and at least did not have the hassle of fighting their way through the layers of snow on the ground, Elrohir kept glancing back often to ensure the presence of his brother and the elfling.

They continued on for several hours, when Elrohir heard his twin call out to him through the howling of the wind as they walked across the plains before the Mirkwood forest. Elrohir turned to see Elladan kneeling on the ground, cradling the long-limbed elfling to his chest in an attempt to keep him out of the snow drifts. He hurried over to him, blinking the snow out of his eyes as he dropped to one knee. "We cannot stop here!" he called out, using his mind link as well to ensure Elladan heard him. "We must seek the forest before stopping. The trees will at least provide a little shelter!"

"I KNOW that!" Elladan cried in frustration. "The elfling has awoken, and his fever is worse."

Seemingly oblivious to the sibling argument going on around him, Legolas reached out an obviously trembling, thin hand and clutched at Elladan's tunic. "Elladan… why are we stopping? We will miss Yule… We cannot miss Yule… Ada will be lonely…"

Elrohir turned horrified eyes to meet the equally terrified grey ones of his brother. 'He thinks it is not Yule yet,' he mind-spoke his twin. 'He is ill indeed to get so mixed up!'

Elladan merely pursed his lips together, reaching up a hand through the hood of the cloak to clasp Legolas' cheek and hissing under his breath. "He is burning!" he exclaimed out loud, and grabbed up some snow into his hand, rubbing it frantically all over the elfling's face and neck despite the weak pleas and whimpers of discomfort that the elfling gave at the too-cold feeling on burning flesh. He continued this for some moments before he stopped and looked the young one over carefully, peering into his teary eyes and placing a hand to his reddened cheek.

Elladan sighed, his head falling down for a moment as he whispered a few words that Elrohir could not hear, then turned to his twin. "It has lowered… for now, anyway. Let us swiftly reach the shelter of the trees." He scooped the elfling up, trying to muster a smile as glazed, blue eyes peered up at him in confusion and pain. "I am so sorry, little one. I had to get your fever lowered, and it was the only way I had at the moment. The storm is too bad for anything else."

Legolas looked around him for a moment, trying to peek around the layers of fabric covering his face, only just now seeming to notice the horrible storm. "It is snowing…!" he said in a state of disbelief, the innocent comment causing Elladan to clasp him to his chest even tighter as it reminded him just how ill the child was.

"Aye, penneth. It is snowing," he said softly. "We will be safe and warm soon. Rest now. All is well."

Legolas nodded slowly, awe and confusion still lingering on his fair, thin features as he snuggled back against the firm chest of one of his 'big brothers.' Elladan stumbled on after his twin for some time, thankful to see the line of trees marking the beginning of Mirkwood drawing ever closer. He looked down to see the elfling's eyes closed and smiled in relief, happy that the young one could get some much-needed rest.

Only about a half a mile from the tree line, Legolas suddenly jolted his head up, clutching frantically at Elladan's tunic. "The tree!" he wailed, utter desperation in his voice. "Elladan! Where is my tree?"

Elladan nearly dropped the young elf in shock. He stopped walking and dropped to a squat, making sure to keep Legolas' upper body away from the snow. The youth had reached the gangly age, with long limbs, and it was more awkward to safely hold him.

He pushed back the edges of the blankets and cloaks to better see Legolas' face. "The trees are all ahead, penneth. We are nearly there." He hoped he sounded convincing enough for the nearly delusional child, knowing deep in his heart it would not be enough.

Legolas cast an impatient gaze to the treeline, then glared back at the elder elf. "Nay! You KNOW that is not what I mean! Where is my tree, Elladan? Surely Elrohir has him?" He tried to look around the covers towards the other twin, who was making his way slowly back towards them, apprehension shining clearly on his face, and Elladan knew that he had heard the elfling's wail a moment before.

He clutched the young elf close to him, trying to soothe him. "We could not bring it, penneth. It is nice and safe in the cave. Perhaps you can visit it again sometime."

Tears welled up suddenly in the elfling's eyes, eyes that filled with betrayal and angst and nearly caused poor Elladan's heart to shatter. "He will NOT survive! Twas me that brought him to life, and now he has been left to wither all alone in that dark, dank cave! I cannot leave him! I CANNOT!" He closed his eyes and pressed his face against the elder elf's tunic, breaking into heartfelt sobs of despair.

Elladan held him, rubbing circles on the too-thin back through the blankets as he miserably turned to look at his approaching brother, who dropped down beside him. "I will go back. I should have thought…"Elrohir said sadly, worry on his face.

"Nay! It is too risky! And it will only prolong the trip. It will be hard enough as it is."

"Let us get to the trees and find a little shelter for you both. We are only a few hours away yet. I can travel faster without you and the elfling. I can likely be back in five or six hours."

Elladan pursed his lips together. "First, you wish me to bring him out in this miserable storm against my better wishes. Now, you wish me to keep him out even longer in it because of a stupid tree! Think, Elrohir!"

Elrohir smiled sadly. He had always been able to understand the young wood elf a little more than Elladan, though the elder twin loved him equally with a fierce protectiveness. He placed a soothing hand on his brother's arm as he looked down at the young elf encased in blankets and shuddering in sobbing despair. "I AM thinking, muindor," he said gently. "He is a wood elf. This is not just a childish whim; it is a NEED!"

Elladan peered deeply into his brother's eyes for a moment, then slumped his shoulders and nodded. "You are right," he said, sighing. "Let us hurry with this and hope to find better shelter than before while we wait."


End file.
